


Good Intentions and (often) Terrible Ideas

by knrdgirl



Category: Avengers (Comic), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Community: norsekink, Family, M/M, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:11:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knrdgirl/pseuds/knrdgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Norsekink prompt:   <br/>So we’ve had all these wonderful fics where Thor is the overprotective brother guarding his precious sibling’s honor.<br/>I’d like to see one where he decides that getting his highly intelligent, snarky, albeit lonely sibling together with highly intelligent, snarky, albeit lonely Tony Stark (playboy part can be taken care of with a few good swings, and hey, he is almost like midgardian royalty with all that money) is just what they both need. <br/>Even if they seem to think they don’t.<br/>Bonus points if Thor gets them in situations multiple times.<br/>Internets if they actually get together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had to. Apparently I have a serious weakness for writing matchmaker Thor. I have a fair amount of this already written posted on Norsekink, so updates will actually be prompt for once.

Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard, God of Thunder, has had many interesting ideas over his thousands of years of life. Not all of them had been good, this he knew; but he also knew the importance of standing by what you believed the right path to be. Thor figured, even if later, it turned out you were wrong, at least you could go to sleep knowing you would never just sit back and let the world happen to you or the ones you love. He was not a man to whom ideas came slowly; they came in a bright flash of glory, or not at all (and heroes such as he were not fond of turning away glory). This made the powerful God a veritable juggernaut of good intentions and (often) terrible ideas. 

So, one particularly fine (but oddly quiet) morning in Avengers’ Tower, he found himself sitting and watching as Tony Stark sketched out some new, most likely brilliant plan for some contraption Thor didn’t understand,when he was reminded of his little brother and the countless schemes he had seen him concoct as children, and lo and behold, he had an idea.

The God repositioned himself to the counter so as to get a better vantage point for observation, smiling what he hoped was a business as usual smile when Tony looked up from his assorted mess of papers. He decided it had been succesful when Tony gave a small half smile back and returned to his sketching.

“I know I’m nice to look at, and all,” Tony quipped, as he ran his eraser rapidly over the plans, “But it’s sort of hard to focus with you staring at me like that. Can’t you go play with your magical hammer or something?”

“Ah. Aye.” Thor stood, too enthralled with his rapidly forming theory to be offended, and began to back away from the counter. “My apologies.”   
He retreated to the couch, and was only more sure that his instinct was right.

He spent what felt like an appropriate amount of time looking at the large mounted television, before he began to periodically peak back at the billionaire deep in thought behind him. he let his eyes trail the other up and down, trying to study every detail that seemed significant. 

He had been witness to the late night and early morning comings and goings of many attractive women to his friend’s quarters. If his idea were to come to fruition, Tony would surely have to be broken of that promiscuity, but to Thor’s advantage, it also was a clear sign that to those so inclined, the man was considered an immensely appealing bed partner.

Tony eventually looked back over his shoulder, one eye brow cocked in question.

“What?” he asked, voice a mix of worry and suspicion.

“Hm?” Thor did his best to look innocent, something he had been told by Jane that he was infuriatingly good at doing.

Tony frowned, and continued to look at him, clearly in the midst of an attempt to discern why he was being so intensely watched.

“Why are you staring at me? Oh God, did you go in my workshop? What did you break?!”

“Nothing!” Thor insisted truthfully. The Asgardian had barely recovered from the guilt of destroying one of Tony’s newest proud creations the first time he had wandered down there unsupervised. “I swear it, on my honor. I have not!”

Tony’s expression softened, but he continued to appear unconvinced.

“I shall go. I regret to have disturbed your work so,” Thor continued as he hastily rose and hurried from the room. He stopped by the door to try and give Tony one last reassuring smile before he turned the corner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor consults an expert

Thor spent the morning feeling like he was a very smart God, indeed. He almost didn’t know why it had never occurred to him before. It was a common opinion that a good, solid, romantic commitment (usually marriage, although he supposed it didn’t have to be) could settle a man, and, considering the positive effects Jane had had on him, he felt that there was surely truth to it.

Tony Stark had proved himself to be highly intelligent, in possession of great wit, and an honorable warrior of the highest caliber. In fact, with his great wealth and influence, the man seemed to be the closest Midgardians had to functioning royalty, or nobility, at the very least. As long as Thor could verify a few crucial details, he knew his idea would be a perfect one. Those few things not withstanding, Thor’s mind had been made up with immediate and unbreakable conviction. Tony Stark, billionaire, leading Avenger, and first class genius, would take Loki Odinson (because no matter what was said or done, Thor would think of him no other way), God of Mischief and Fire, Prince of Asgard, and first class genius, as his lover.

“Lady Pepper.” Thor said the name enthusiastically as he approached the red head’s desk.

“Thor,” she responded amiably, looking up from her computer to greet him. “What can I do for you?”

“I consider you a friend.”

“Oh. Well, thank you. I consider you a friend too.”

“As such, I feel I may discuss with you matters which I would normally not discuss with a lady. Would you feel comfortable discussing such things with me?”

Pepper eyed him appraisingly.

“As a general rule, I would hope you feel comfortable discussing anything with me that you would with a man in my position.” She said it with a deep hope that she wouldn’t regret it later.

“Good!” Thor brightened immediately. “I shall sit with you, and we shall converse.” He lifted the only other chair close at hand, and pushing it up to the side of the desk opposite Pepper, sat with gusto.

Pepper looked at him with expectant eyes.

“You have known Stark far longer than I,” he said, with seemingly no plans to expand on the statement.

“Yes, I have.”

Thor nodded, still smiling, and Pepper found herself wondering if reading it as almost smug was correct.

“I hope that some day, I know him as well as you do, but, that day has yet to arrive. So, I would be greatly indebted to you if you would be so kind as to answer a few inquiries.”

“Yah,sure. Shoot. Don’t mind the typing.”

“Anthony has had many lovers.”

Pepper gave a short laugh. 

“I think that may be the understatement of the century.”

“Is it…true that they have not all been women?” Thor’s voice became a tad more careful, but his smile didn’t waver.

“That is true. More women than men, though.” Pepper had, for a split second, considered not answering, but then she remembered who she worked for. Tony barely had it in him not to flaunt his conquests to the whole world, he couldn’t bring himself to care whether one of his closest friends knew what he liked if he tried.

“So he does take men for lovers? Good. And what does he prefer in them?” 

“In terms of looks, you mean?”

“Aye. I recall him fondly referring to blonds in jest. Does he truly prefer those with flaxen locks?” Thor knew, being Loki’s brother, that he was not in the best position to objectively gauge his appeal in a sexual or romantic manner. So, he figured the best thing to do would be to find out what Tony liked, and do his best to see if Loki matched. Jane was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. It didn’t seem to matter that she was not what he would have described years earlier as his ideal woman. He just hadn’t known what he really needed until it him hit with it’s car. Maybe it would be the same for Tony and his brother. Plus, his brother was very lovable when he was not destroying anything, not to mention his high rank, and Midgardians seemed to value many of his traits, why should Tony not want him?

Pepper avoided appearing unnerved by the conversation only through her years of working in close quarters with Tony Stark, verifiable man whore. She tried not to glance at Thor’s own very blond hair, and hoped he wasn’t asking for the reasons it seemed like he might be asking.

“No. Not really. He’s certainly partial to pretty hair, but it doesn’t need to be light. He goes through phases, actually, with that sort of thing. One week it’s ‘I’ve decided to date women who actually eat’, the next it’s ‘only brunettes with bobs’.” Pepper shrugged, long ago having realized that becoming invested in Tony’s love life was a silly, silly thing to do. 

Thor stroked his beard contemplatively.

“Are there any consistencies in his favors? What would endear someone to him more than usual?”

“Thor?” Pepper looked back up from her computer to make firm eye contact. As anyone who had to work with her knew, she had perfected the expectant stare. When Pepper Potts looked you in the eye, you told the truth. “Are you in love with Tony?”

Thor frowned, then laughed, expression hanging somewhere in between confused, wildly amused, and patronizing.

“Nay, nay, of course I am not. Do not be silly,” he said through his chuckling. “I simply wish to know his preferences in the men he takes to bed.” He added the second statement as if there was nothing at all odd about it.

“Alright,” Pepper said, thoroughly unconvinced, but chose to let the matter slide for the moment.

“So, his preferences?”

“Hmm. It’s the usual stuff, really, with men and women. He’s not exactly exceedingly picky. He knows what he like when he sees it, but pinning it down more than that is surprisingly hard to do. I wouldn’t bother trying to suss out his ‘type’.”

Thor nodded, looking pensive. Pepper nearly jumped when the large God abruptly hopped to his feet.

“Very well! Thank you for you assistance. Enjoy your morning Lady Pepper.”

Pepper barely had time to fit in a ‘No problem Thor, you too,’ before he had rushed from the room.

Now that he had rid himself of any questions concerning his friend’s preferences, there was nothing standing in between him and his goal. There was no time to waste, and Thor was not a man who enjoyed waiting, it was time to put a plan into action.


	3. Playing Catch

Thor refused to concede that his first attempt was a failure.   
It had not taken long for his brother to surface, so, when the Avengers went out to put a stop to his villainous shenanigans, he made a move.  
In hindsight, he understood that it could have been better planned, and that _maybe_ he shouldn’t have done it. But at the time it had seemed like such a good idea.

The stand off had wound up on top of one of NYs many obscenely tall buildings. Iron Man had been hovering (more like showing off, really) a ways away from the sky scraper. Thor, standing there, wind blowing his glorious blond hair, only one well timed lunge away from his brother, knew exactly what to do.

Loki was not hard to lift, at least for the God of Thunder. He had done it plenty of times. As an older brother, he had considered it his duty to tease and cajole- to toughen him up. This led to more than one occasion when Thor had decided Loki needed a dunking in the bathing pools.   
So, when he did lunge, he barely had to put thought into the maneuver. 

“My apologies, brother,” Thor had said as he managed to disarm Loki, and hefted him above his head. “Do not fear.”

Then he threw him. 

 

Loki’s yell of “What are you doing?! Set me down, you insufferable brut-” was cut off with a not so regal noise as he left his brother’s over bearing grasp.

“Stark! Be alert!” Thor had called into his hands.

Cap rushed for the edge, sending an aghast look over his shoulder at Thor, who was smiling a self satisfied smile, and watching, hands on his hips, as Tony flew forward to catch the air born super villain.

Thor did not fear for his brother, or he would not have done it. Loki could do many things; he could summon corporeal fogs, and those of the mind, he could make unparalleled poisons, summons storms, and divine omens good and bad, but, unless he had the time to make himself a bird, he could not fly. But that did not matter, and was, in fact, convenient, for an honorable warrior such as Stark would not let him fall.

In the initial moment of shocked silence, Thor was sure it would be a good ice breaker.

Stark grasped the trickster around the waist with an armored limb. Loki looked as if he could not decide whether to be furious or relieved as he secured a scrambling death grip on metallic shoulders.

“Hold still, I’ve got you. You’re fine,” Tony said, voice electronic and filtered, in hopes that the deity would cease his counter productive struggling.

“Then put me down. On the ground,” Loki snapped with what, were he human, would probably have been translated to shaky breath.

“What did you think I planned on doing, dropping you? Not really our style.”

Steve turned back to Thor, eyes narrowed in confusion.

“What in the world was that supposed t-“

“Hush friend.” Thor held up a large hand in signal for silence. “Have trust.”

Tony touched down onto the rooftop among the confused stares and expectant silences of the rest of the team.

 

Loki slipped from Iron Man’s hold as soon as his feet touched the concrete. 

“What, no thank you?” Tony asked as Loki quickly grasped his staff from the ground.

The team, save Thor and Tony, braced themselves for a fight, but Loki only turned back to face the man who’d caught him.

“My hero,” he intoned, smile translucently false, and voice mocking.

He tapped the staff by his feet, muttered something under his breath, and the next thing they knew, time had been lost, and Loki was no where to be seen.

“So,” Tony was the first to speak up, “What was that?”

“It is a common type of enchantment, to alter perceptions long enough to flee.”

“I’m guessing he meant the whole, trying to toss your brother off a skyscraper thing,” Clint explained, crossing his arms.

“Are we allowed to do that now? ‘Cause that’s a technique I can use,” Peter added.

“It worked, did it not? The crisis has passed.”

“Thor.” Steve placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Aye, friends, do not look at me so,” Thor said with a reassuring smile. “All is well. I told him not to have fear, he knew I was not truly trying to hurt him.”

Natasha let out a half bored sigh. “Loki’s feelings weren’t really what we were curious about.”

“Ah.” Thor scratched at his beard. “I gave Anthony fair warning. You did not feel endangered, did you?” he said as he turned to Tony, but did not wait for a response. “It was simply team work.”

The armored Avenger gave a stiff mechanical imitation of a shrug.

“He did just take off after. No harm done. Although, next time we play pass the God of Mischief, I’d like to know we’re playing ahead of time.”

“Of course.”

Thor paid no attention to the questioning looks he got from Steve on the way back to the tower, already wrapped up in what to do next.  
It may have been a brief interaction this time, but it was a start. He had acted, and that was what mattered.  
He would need to get the two alone together for longer than a few seconds if they were to realize their compatibility. Perhaps, he thought, one of the dates Midgardians were so fond of was in order.


	4. Chapter 4

One of the many things that Tony and Thor's brother had in common, was that they were hard men to keep track of. Tying them together obviously wasn’t an option, but luckily, he knew just the man to call for assistance, and just the woman to call for advice. Thor hadn’t been so grateful for the phone that Tony had given him since he lost track of Jane at that outlet mall.

 

If Tony and Loki were going to have a first date, he had to make sure it was a good one. Thor had always thought himself good with women. He may not have had a reputation like Fandral’s, but he had brought more than his fair share of ladies to bed. The problem now, as he saw it, was that there was no lady involved. It had taken him long enough to adjust to the idea of two men together, he hadn’t exactly sat around contemplating their courting process.  
***  
“Wait- What are you asking me?” Jane asked over the phone. “I’m working babe, is this important?”

“This is of the utmost importance,” Thor insisted. “My question is: were you a man, and I was still a man, and we were together in a romantic way, as we are now, how would our courting have gone?”

There was a small laugh and then a moment of silence.

“So, let me get this straight. You called to find out what our relationship would be like if we were gay lovers, and this is of the utmost importance?”

“Aye.”

“…Why?”

“I am matchmaking. Do not tell anyone.”

“Oh. Who are you setting up?”

“Anthony, I—”

“Really? You just have to push him out the front door and he’ll find someone. Plus, I don’t think they come straighter than Tony Stark. I could see why you might think he swings that way, like, he’s got that sexually ambiguous vibe going, but, well, you live with the guy.”

“Nay! It is true, he very much appreciates the male form. He takes men and women to bed.”

“Really?”

“Verily.”

“Huh. Wow. Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire: bisexual. The funny things is, I can actually see it. How long have you known that?”

“Tis not important. I would be immensely grateful if you would just answer my question.”

“Okay… Hmm, a date with two men wouldn’t be all that different, Thor. Wining and dining is always a safe bet, but minus the wine, obviously.”

“Dining together. What else? What should be eaten?”

“Thor, I have to go, I’m sorry, but Darcy’s watching the lab, and… I’m just not comfortable with that for long periods of time. Okay?”

“Why, why should I ask him?”

“Because no decade did romance quite like the 1940s. Just trust me. Good luck with the whole Tony thing.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Love you.”

“I love you also.”

“Bye. I’ll call you later.” 

***

“If you were a lover of men,” Thor began, “a homosexual, what manner of things would you choose for a first date?”

Steve looked up from his cereal, caught off guard.

“If you chose to take men for lovers, what would you do with them for romance, like on a date?” Thor restated, hoping to clarify.

Steve finished chewing.

“May I ask what makes you ask?”

“I would appreciate it if you did not.”

“Alright…” Steve agreed with a thoughtful breath. “I suppose I wouldn’t do much differently. Though, I’ve noticed that now a days some women don’t appreciate things like opening the car door, so that sort of thing probably wouldn’t be well received by a man.”

“What about when you are from?”

“I imagine men would’ve reacted worse to it then. Not that two men would’ve been on open dates back then.”

“You misunderstand me, my friend. What were your dates like in your time? Jane said it was a decade good with such things.”

“Oh. Personally, I didn’t, really. I wasn’t ever all that popular with women, and then I was, but I was busy at that point.”

“Then not you in particular. What might any man do on a date back then?”

“Some things are the same, you know, dinner, the movies. Young people might go get ice cream or a milkshake.”

“Milkshake?”

“Well, it’s a lot like really light and fluffy ice cream. You’ve had ice cream, right?”

Thor nodded with enthusiasm. He doubted anyone in their right mind could dislike ice cream, and his brother had always been in possession of a sizeable sweet tooth. As children, although Loki was usually the one who had to gaurd his food, dessert was the only time Thor had to watch his plate. Ice cream was worth consideration.

“So, dinner is always acknowledged as an appropriate way to court?”

“I’ve never known anyone who objected to it.”

“Wonderful!” Thor exclaimed with a grin. “What food is fitting?”

“Well, there aren’t really rules that specific. It depends what kind of date it is. Anything from a good old fashioned burger, to prime cut steak. Are you sure you can’t tell me what this is about? You know you can tell me anything in confidence, and I’ll keep it.”

Thor gave thoughtful pause.

“No matter what it was? You would keep my secret?”

“Of course.”

“Do you promise me? Swear on your shield.”

“I promise you,” Steve said earnestly. “On my shield.”

The God of Thunder leaned forward conspiratorially, and Steve leaned forward in turn.

“I have had a revelation.”

Steve nodded his encouragement. 

“I came to a realization recently, and now I am attempting to arrange a match.”

Steve frowned, the conversationg having taken an unexpected turn.

“A match?”

“A romantic match. I shall bring two people together, as lovers.”

“Oh.” Steve leaned back. “That’s… not what I thought you were going to tell me.” He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair, appearing to be an odd mixture of confused and relieved.

“What did you think?”

“Nothing. Doesn’t matter. Who are you setting up?”

“That must remain a secret for now, but I promise it shall not remain so forever. I must be off, but do not worry, I have nothing untoward in mind.” Thor said as he stood. “All will be well.”

“…Alright..” Steve said unsurely, taking a bite of his cereal.

“You must not mention this to anyone, as you promised.”

“I won’t. I gave you my word, although I’ve got to be honest, I don’t know why this conversation needs to be such a big secret.”

“You shall just have to trust me then.”

***

After Thor had left Steve to his breakfast and confusion, he settled in to his room with his cell phone. First things first, he opened his contacts and scrolled down to S, coming to a stop at ‘Stephen Strange’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, it wasn't a literal month between updates. *casually ignores that this story was mostly pre-written.*  
> Comments/thoughts are always appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

Thor had ended his conversation with Stephen feeling cheered and encouraged. Supplies were the next logical step, but that was easy enough. Food especially, wouldn’t be a problem. He lived with Tony and had lived with Loki nearly his entire life; he knew what the two men liked to eat. Location had already been taken care of with the help of a friend.

Thor knew everything he needed to execute his plan effectively (one he felt was practically fool proof), all that was left to do was gather it all, the last of ‘It all’ being Tony and Loki, and that would be his final task. 

He made up an excuse for his fellow Avengers he felt would be acceptable to Midgardians to explain his absence, having previously discovered the hard way that explanations like “there’s a dwarf problem I need to take care of,” “I’m attending a banquet on Alfheim,” or “I am joining Fandral on a quest for a sword of legend,” were now met with too much curiosity to be convenient. 

Thor would need to return home, if only briefly, and would have to call in a favor or two. The time would need to be taken out to say hello to his parents, since he would be in need of his goats, and stopping by to retrieve his things without seeing them would make him a very inconsiderate son, indeed. 

His arrival home to the glittering city of his childhood was a happy one. He was welcomed into his father’s hall with open arms and fed better than he had been in quite a while. Thor had missed boar more than he realized, and got to enjoy a sizeable one while he shared stories of his recent adventures on Midgard and told of some of their odder customs.

After dinner, he went to his rooms to collect some of the bounty he had collected on his youthful travels, which as a man, he had never found use for; then he went off to the stables to collect his goats. He said a second good night to his mother, but instead of returning to his rooms, set out on the road to Sessrumnir. He had a goddess to bargain with.

***

Tony Stark straightened his jacket in the mirror and admired himself. Getting ready for fancy galas, charity dinners, and all the other high class events he was supposed to attend was something he could do on auto-pilot. Of course, it had all been more fun when he could drink his way through it. 

He didn’t even get to bring Thor, which he had grown accustomed to doing when he had to attend something particularly boring. There were few things more fun than seeing Thor suss out new Earthly traditions and social customs, especially when surrounded by his fellow billionaires, who, in his opinion shared the common attribute of being dreadfully dull (except for heiresses of course. They knew how to have more than their fair share of fun). 

He abandoned his place at the mirror to return to his bedroom, contemplating which car to take as he made his way to the door, and then paused abruptly. Tony was sure he hadn’t left the door to his bedroom open. He fiddled with his keys as he stared at the open doorway. His last conscious thought as everything went black was that he should have hit the alarm; and the last thing he remembered hearing was the sound of his keys falling to the floor.

***

Loki valued his privacy. That’s the way he had always been. But it was more than placing a high value on the private details of one’s life, it was that he knew the value of others knowing only what you wanted them to know.   
It was of the utmost importance, he thought, when trying to gain the upper hand with nothing more than a few words, that you knew more about the recipient of them than they wanted anyone to know, and that they knew less about you than they thought they did.   
The worst mistake a man could make, in Loki’s opinion, was letting someone get something on you that you didn’t know they had. If you knew, that was something altogether different, that was easy to work with, but not knowing, there were few and far between ways to win in that position. 

So, Loki prided himself on being generally more aware than other people, and in taking special care to be extremely conscious of what others knew about him. In that fashion, the prince was sure that no one had any idea where his lair (a lair that was less some secret dungeon in the middle of nowhere, and more a high rise apartment building that he’d bought and had renovated) was, and until Thor’s trip back to Asgard, he would have been right.

Loki had curled up on his caned settee with an angora blanket (a glorious Midgardian invention), a nearly empty cup of tea, and a tome he was having trouble summoning much interest in on his lap. Pushing the disappointment of a book off of his legs, he stood and strode out of his main sitting room and into the kitchen, placing a hand against the kettle to make the water boil. 

The god did not sense that anything was amiss until the cloth fell over his eyes. More than fear, it was confusion that filled his mind as he tried to pry what felt like animal skin away from his face. Loki quickly ceased what he thought to be a fruitless physical struggle against the surprisingly strong arms that had grasped him and began to mutter under his breath. His amusement that whoever was foolish enough to dare touch him had assumed that like some weak, mortal practitioner, he would be incapacitated without the use of his physical eyes, quickly turned to panic as he found no response to his efforts. He reached out to the wild powers of the universe that always thrummed around him, but found nothing to hold onto. The shocking, complete and utter blindness of it choked him, and he felt as if he was attempting to grab hold of something in a deep, dark void without stumbling into it. Pushing further, he desperately fumbled through the veil of black for any tendril of the power usually so easily captured, but instead fell short, following his call down into the silence.  
***  
Thor returned to the tower after an evening, a night, and a day after he had left. Everything had gone basically according to plan, both on Asgard and afterwards. He’d even had time to get some gifts for his team-mates.

As of an hour previous, Loki and Tony were where they needed to be. He couldn’t help but smile to himself when Steve asked if anyone knew where Tony had gone off to.

***

Tony brought a hand to his stiff neck and pushed himself up off of the cold surface he was laying on. He rubbed at his eyes until they focused, but what he saw around him made no more sense for his clearer vision. It was a midsized residential room with a nicely tiled floor, certainly not his bedroom, and in fact, nowhere in the tower. Tony Stark was not a fan of tiles. 

He rushed to his feet as it dawned on him that he had arrived wherever it was he was under incredibly suspicious and dreadfully vague circumstances. He was a man who had been captured more times than he cared to admit, and was quite wary of it by then. 

He wasn’t tied, which was always a good sign, and he was certainly not in a cell, but he couldn’t say exactly what it was. If anything, it looked like an average, if upscale, living room. The lack of throbbing in his head, and neither the absence of injury, nor any memory of pain before he’d lost consciousness suggested that he hadn’t been knocked out through violent means. 

There was only one door in the room which he was surprised to find unlocked. Wiping away the small dab of drool that had dried in the corner of his mouth, he carefully pushed the door open. What he found in the adjacent room was not at all what he had been expecting, and he could not decide whether it was less horrifying, or more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments/thoughts are always appreciated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you've probably already noticed, I tend to combine things from different MUs to find a balance of the things I really enjoy from different versions.

The second room was a good deal larger and more finely furnished. A set dining table sat in the room’s center, complete with what looked like some sort of pasta, breadsticks, and a large bottle, but that was not what held Tony’s attention. There was a still figure curled up on the floor, facing inconveniently away. The manner in which the body was folded in on itself made it impossible to discern much about their features other than that the hair was dark. 

Tony watched skeptically, hoping to ascertain whether they were breathing. Walking over to check seemed like a remarkably bad idea. The whole scene screamed trapped, but then again, he was already trapped, wasn’t he? His conscience gave a pang; if he had a fellow captive he had to check to make sure they weren’t injured, and it would certainly be in his best interest to know if he was in the hands of someone who was killing their prisoners. There wasn’t blood that he could see, at least. 

He looked away from the man (he was almost totally positive it was a man) to survey the room. No windows, only one door. Carefully edging around the room’s outskirts, he moved to the door. This one was locked. It wasn’t the flimsy kind with a door knob; it had a slot for a key card and felt unsurprisingly and disappointingly sturdy. The dining room was not filled with much that would make opening up the key swipe an easy task. Tony tread quietly to the table to retrieve a knife and fork, and as he leaned across the intimately sized table, he caught his first clear glimpse of the man on the floor, or more accurately, the alien god on the floor.

 

“Oh. Fuck,” he swore under his breath. Tony ran a hand over his face as he backed away as quietly as possible. He’d seen Loki play possum before, but if this was a trick, Tony was sure it was the oddest one he’d ever found himself in. Zero logical reasons came to mind for why Loki would feign unconsciousness (his chest rose and fell steadily, so he wasn’t dead) and lock them in a room together with a chandelier and a warm meal. 

It had been a good while since he’d felt the absence of his armor so intensely. If it was a trap, he was screwed. He had a mean right hook, and his speed had improved (much thanks due to Steve’s often irritating insistence on training), but none of it would do much good against a pissed off super powered (not to mention magical) alien divinity.   
With some effort, he turned his back to the center of the room. He knelt before the door and attempted to put the silverware to work. Loki’s presence was very good incentive for getting the Hell out of there.

The effort quickly proved unsuccessful. The small silvery screws refused to cooperate, and nothing seemed willing to be pried away from anything else. The knowledge that an easy solution was kept from him by only a thin casing of metal was exasperating. He abandoned the higher minded effort and gave a few attempts at shouldering it open, but only succeeded in winning himself a future bruised shoulder. He came to the conclusion that there was something seriously abnormal about the door. The dining room might have been normal enough, but the lock certainly wasn’t.

Hands flattened against the door’s frame, Tony took in a calming breath and turned to take a few steps back towards Loki, angling to take a closer look without getting too close. 

Loki looked a far throw from how he normally did. The villain’s position was strangely childlike: knees tucked up and arms pulled into his chest. It suggested sleep rather than unconsciousness. The whole of it made Tony nervous, but it didn’t look like he was getting out on his own or that Loki was the culprit of whatever it was that was going on.

Steeling himself, he bent down and gingerly placed two fingers against Loki’s carotid artery, and when Loki did not wake at the touch (much to Tony’s relief), he turned his attention to his watch. Loki’s pulse was normal, and if he’d been human Tony would have said it meant he hadn’t been given a sedative or tranquilizer, but since the average human tranquilizer did very little to pretty much anything from across the Bifrost, he supposed it didn’t mean much. If Loki had been drugged it would have had to be with something special. He moved his hand to drop it tentatively on the Asgardian’s shoulder and gave it a small shake. Loki made a quiet discontented noise in his throat and frowned. Whether that stirring was a good sign depended entirely on his reaction to being woken. 

 

“Loki,” Tony said, deciding to abandon his nerves. “Loki,” he repeated louder, “C’mon, time to wake up and tell me what the fuck is going on.” He shook harder and the other’s frown deepened before his eyes shuttered groggily open. The god twisted around to look at who had woken him, green eyes glossy from sleep. “Morning sunshine.” Tony believed that putting up an unaffected front was the safest option in most situations, that one included.

Loki’s eyes narrowed in confusion before his face then morphed into a scowl as he suddenly shot out a hand. Tony flinched when the pale hand’s palm slapped bluntly onto his forehead, but opened his eyes when he felt nothing more than the initial sting. Loki blinked at him like an angry owl, eyes wide and cheeks pinched.

 

“…What, ah, what exactly are you trying to do right now?” Tony asked after a moment of speechless bewilderment (which might have bordered on amusement, were his life not possibly hanging in the balance) as to why the god of mischief was gripping his forehead furiously.

 

Loki responded by shoving him away.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he snarled and pushed himself up onto his hands. “Who do you think you are? You dare lay your hands on me?”

 

“Woah, now.” Tony raised his palms. “Settle down, sleeping beauty, I was just making sure you weren’t comatose.”

 

Loki’s brow furrowed, let out an angry breath, and Tony was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten the reference. 

“I would not speak to me so flippantly, mortal,” Loki warned as he righted himself almost clumsily. “I will not allow such impudence.”

 

Tony carefully got to his feet and took a step back. “Listen, since it looks like we’re in this together, it would really be in your best interest not to flip shit and try to turn me into a frog or something.”

 

“Do not mock me, Stark. Why have you brought me here?” The god asked imperiously as he took in his surroundings. “You haven’t brought me into SHIELD custody, obviously,” he gestured to the table, “and this isn’t your tower.”

 

“I didn’t bring you here. Whoever brought you here, brought us here. We’re locked in. Think it through, why, if I managed to take you in, would I lock us in a room together like this? What in the world would I get out of this as some ploy?”

 

Loki’s beryl gaze did not become friendly (by any stretch of the imagination) but he looked less like he was trying to set Tony on fire with his eyes, something that Tony wished was way less possible than it probably was. In that moment, he was immensely grateful that he had wound up locked in with one of the smarter super villains, instead of one of the ones who would have insisted he was lying and tried to kill him to both their detriments. He gave his team-mate’s brother a wide berth when Loki moved at a clip to the door. Loki jiggled the handle, paused, and jiggled it again, the second time with a good deal more inhuman force. It did not give, and so he placed a few long fingers against the lock and left them there. Tony thought he saw something disquieted cross the other’s face.

 

“Any luck? You going to magic your way out of here?”

 

“Bring me something sharp,” Loki ordered in response.

 

“Say please.” Tony had no interest in letting such a haughty precedent be set in case they were going to be stuck together for any extended period of time. 

 

Loki made a noise stuck somewhere in-between irritated and amused. “Get me something sharp, Stark, unless it pleases you to be used as a battering ram.”

"Not really what I meant,” Tony sighed, walking over to where he’d set down the knife and brought it to Loki, feeling foolish handing something so sharp to a super villain. Not that it made much of a difference for Tony’s overall safety; if Loki was going to kill him, it was doubtful it would happen by dinner knife.

Loki gave him a smile that wasn’t even supposed to appear sincere. 

Tony leaned forward in an effort to see as the other began to scratch into the lock’s metal. After a few silent moments, what were revealed to be runes were carved meticulously into fruition, and Loki tried for the handle again, but to no avail. His face remained calm, but his chest rose in a quick, hard huff. Hands were draped back over the lock and Loki closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he simply did nothing. 

 

Tony frowned. “You can’t magic yourself out of here, can you?” Something clicked in the billionaire’s head. “That’s what that was, when you palmed my head. You were trying to cast a spell, weren’t you?”

 

“If that had been the case, I would have done more than try, and you would have known it. This door has been enchanted.” Loki swept past Tony rudely on his way to the table. “This food has not been,” Loki informed Tony after a few moments of awkward silence.

 

“Okay,” Tony found himself saying.

 

“What do you remember?” Loki asked without turning around.

 

“Everything went black, but,” Tony decided to redirect the conversation somewhere he thought more immediately pressing, “are we just giving up on the door? If you can use that super human strength of yours to pry the casing off the key swipe, I can get us out of here.” 

 

“I’ve already made an attempt. We need a different tactic, which I’m sure I will think of if you remain silent.”

 

“No, actually you tried rough housing the handle, and then you tried doing something magical to the lock.”

 

“And I told you the door has been enchanted. Neither the force of my hand, nor the skill of yours will open it,” Loki answered sharply. “So, do us both the favor of answering my questions. What were you doing before you were taken? Were you first subdued?”

 

“Like I said, it just went black. I don’t think I was knocked out. No one subdued me physically, but there was someone in the room with me. We can talk all we want while we try to get the door open,” Tony attempted again.

 

“Any clues as to whom?”

 

“No,” Tony admitted as he approached and then took a seat at the table, realizing Loki was intent on being stubborn. “What do you remember?”

 

“Who have you provoked that you shouldn’t have as of late?” Loki asked, finally deigning to glance Tony’s way, but ignoring his question.

 

“My job ensures that a large number of powerful, crazy people are pissed off at me on a regular basis, that’s not new, but this is not what they usually do to get back at me. Plus, you were brought here too, this isn’t just about me.” Loki remained silent, looking down his nose at Tony. “Oh, c’mon Loki. Don’t be a dick. You’re not the only one who just woke up in the middle of the strangest kidnapping ever. Since you obviously realize killing me would work against you, you might as well share. I’m sort of smart, in case it’s never dawned on you. I ‘m the guy who flies around and kicks ass in a scientific wonder of my own making, remember?”

 

“I thought I’d been clear about that impudence.”

 

“Fine, fuck it.” Tony stood and made for the other room. “You’re going to be no help at all, apparently.” If Loki wasn’t going to be helpful, Tony would just have to save both their asses before whoever had taken them made an appearance.

 

Loki was relieved when the Iron Man stormed off to try and find a means of escape. Loki needed to try and make his magic work, and didn’t want to confirm the other’s suspicion that he couldn’t. He could sense the spell on the door, at least, although it was a fuzzier sensation than it should have been. It felt inaccessible, untouchable.   
Refusing to become resigned to his ridiculous predicament, Loki sat down at the table and concentrated, beginning to quietly chant in hopes of connecting himself to something, to an explanation. The words’ repetition was effective in soothing him, but did little else. He would need a new tactic.

Tony’s luck scavenging the sitting room was no better. The room really was empty of anything other than furniture. Countless plans (that he was sure were brilliant) of escape came to mind, but they all seemed to involve things he did not have. He set to racking his brain for who would benefit from whatever was going on and came up with mostly implausible or ridiculous things. Tony was just starting to consider giving talking with Loki another shot when he heard an odd thumping noise from the dining room.

He peeked his head around the doorway to find Loki by the locked door, knocking a piece of wood against it.

 

“You got desperate quickly,” Tony commented, taking notice of one of the upholstered chairs in the room’s corner on its side, minus a leg, a pile of wood shavings beside it.

 

“This is not an attempt at force.” Loki ceased the motion and dropped his makeshift staff.

 

“So, this is a magic thing?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It, uh, does not seem to be working.”

 

“Obviously,” Loki admitted, annoyed with the obviousness of the statement.

 

Tony turned his attention away from Loki and his widdled chair leg, and wandered over to the table. Looking down at the well presented dishes, he realized he was hungry. “Maybe the food’s poisoned,” Tony considered alloud. “Then again, you’re immune to poison, aren’t you?”

 

“I am,” Loki confirmed.

 

“Could still kill me, though.” Tony paused. “But It’d be odd to devise a way to take me out that would leave you around. If we were allies, sure, it would be a good way to make you suffer, but we’re enemies, so it would be sort of pointless.” Loki didn’t respond and Tony just stood by the table considering, absently fiddling with the neck of the dark bottle. “Maybe it’s just an overly intricate test of my sobriety,” he joked with a quiet chuckle.

 

“That’s not even alcohol,” Loki informed him contrarily. “It’s sparkling cider.”

 

“Oh?” Tony fingered the small folded paper tied to the bottle, flipping it open under the assumption that it was the tag. Instead, he found something much odder. “They left a note.”

 

“Pardon?” Loki crossed the room before Tony could answer. “Show me.”

 

Tony began to read it aloud instead. “’Don’t worry, you are not in danger and shall be returned home before long. Eat, get to know one another, and enjoy your evening. You have more in common than you have probably realized. Signed: A well intentioned friend.’ I don’t recognize the handwriting. Do you?” He held it out and Loki took it somewhat testily. 

 

“No, I do not.”

 

Tony let out a small laugh and sat down. “Ya’ know, this isn’t even the weirdest date I’ve ever been on.”

 

Loki made a pinched, doubtful face. “Date?”

 

“You must know what a date is. Even if they didn’t have them back on Asgard, you’ve been here a while.”

 

“I know what a date is, I just would not consider being kidnapped any such thing.”

 

“Well, the kidnapping part is sort of unorthodox, sure, but the whole getting to know each other over a candle lit dinner is pretty standard.” At Loki’s continuous unimpressed silence, Tony continued to speak. “I was kidding. Aren’t you supposed to be clever?”

 

“Your being un-amusing has nothing to do with whether or not I am clever,” Loki retorted as he joined the other in sitting.

 

“Fine. Let’s say the note is sincere, who would benefit you and I getting to know each other?”

 

“Whoever it is, it’s someone with a great degree of magic at their disposal.”

 

“Yah? What kind of magic?”

 

“My kind of magic.”

 

“You’re the only one I know who does your kind of magic.”

 

“That you know of.” 

 

Tony shifted and was about to respond when his foot knocked against something under the table. He pushed back his chair and knelt down.

 

“Whatever are you doing?” Loki asked pretentiously.

 

Tony responded by pushing the box he found beneath the table into the open. He stood so as to tip the top up with his foot, remaining as far distanced from it as he could.   
The contents surprised both men. 

“Ice cream,” Tony said incredulously.

 

“Ice cream?” Loki leaned forward. 

 

“Yah. Sundaes.”

 

Loki crossed his legs with a sigh. “Well, this is just getting ridiculous.”

 

“Getting? I think we’re way past ridiculous.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/thoughts are always appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I suck at updating even if it's pre-written. *hangs head in shame*

Having shut the cooler and pushed it back under the table, Tony returned to his seat.

Loki heaved a weary sigh and lifted his fork.

“You’re eating now, really?” Tony asked as Loki took a bite.

“Why should I not? It’s not as if it could do me any ill.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice.” He had been hungry before he’d been kidnapped.

“Nothing is stopping you, save your complaints,” Loki said between bites.

“Excuse me for being a little wary of the food offered to us by our captor, despite their claim of friendship.”

Loki stared at him blankly for a few seconds before speaking. “It hasn’t been tampered with.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I am eating it,” Loki said with a heavy dose of condescension.

“Yah, I can see that. You’re immune to poison.”

“So? I can still feel it, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously. How stupid of me.”

“So, you are not going to eat, and will instead just pass the time being unpleasant?”

“Believe me, I’d rather eat, but hanging my life on your word would be really fucking stupid.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Because of course I wish you to perish at the table where I dine. Did you not just give me that little speech about how it would be foolish of me to kill you?”

Tony eyed Loki before taking a bite of the pasta. “This isn’t bad,” the human said, half to himself.

“It isn’t,” Loki agreed cooly, “Despite its unsavory appearance.”

Tony paused at that, surveying the other with a newly emerging smirk. “Unsavory appearance? It’s just ziti.” When Loki only stared in response, he continued. “It’s pasta. Wide, tubular spaghetti.”

“I understand what it is,” Loki cut him off tersely.

“Fine.” The two fell into an awkward silence, both dedicating themselves to getting a little food in their bellies and racking their minds for a way out of the room. Tony eventually looked up when he noticed an odd motion on the edge of his vision. “What are you doing?”

“Eating,” Loki continued to attend his plate.

“No. Not really. You were eating. Now you’re dissecting the meal.”

Loki let out a frustrated sigh. “The meat is chewy and I do not favor it.”

“Really? So you need to pull it apart to push away the icky stuff? How old are you?” Tony asked, snickering.

“Old enough to know I’m not obligated to eat whatever’s on my plate.”

“Fair enough… so… can I have yours, then?” Loki raised an eyebrow. “If you’re just going to make that creepy little mountain out of your sausage, I might as well eat it.” Loki pushed his plate forward, face stony and judgmental, a familiar action for a younger sibling. “Thanks,” Tony shoveled the small pile of meat on to his own plate, then pushed Loki’s plate back, now only the pasta. It was a surreal moment for the man, sharing a meal with an ancient alien super villain, and even in a life that lent itself to surreal moments, that one stood out. Tony hesitated to actually eat the sausage despite his initial desire for it, reminding himself that Loki was a manipulator of literally cosmic proportions, and that if there was one thing he was actually willing to take away from all the fables and mythology that he gave so little credence to, it was probably that one should never accept food or gifts from the trickster.

Loki made a small disinterested “mm” noise in acknowledgement of the other’s thanks.

“You wanna’ give telling me where you were and what you were doing when you were taken another shot?” Tony asked. “You know what they say about ‘two minds’, although I’ve often been disinclined to agree with that one.”

“If you must know, I was making tea. My exact location is for me to know.”

“Then?”

“Then I was blindfolded and grabbed.”

“What’d you get about the guy?”

“He was strong.”

“That’s it? What about his size, voice, anything?” Tony suspected the vague answers were Loki being deliberately difficult.

“No. There was powerful spell work involved, as you should realize. Otherwise I would have seen it coming.”

“So, why’d they blindfold you, then?”

“As a very silly precaution.” Loki smiled at the thought, but it bore an uncanny resemblance to a scowl. “The magic was powerful, but its use was clumsy. Blindfolds effectively hinder weaker practitioners, but using one on me is laughable.”

Tony snorted. “Wait, are you saying that blindfolds cancel out magic?”

“Some magic, and not just any blind fold. That is not the point. I wouldn’t have told you if you could ever put it to use, don‘t waste your meager human energy.”

“Okay, so, whoever it was is stronger than you magically, but way clumsier?”

“No.” Loki glared. “Most certainly not. I said powerful, not more powerful than myself.”

“Well, disregarding the egotism, which, believe me, I get the attachment to: who’s capable of what went down?”

“No one who would benefit from this.”

With a sigh, Tony reached out and pulled the bottle over to open it. “I was hoping we could have a repeat performance of that poison detector routine with the cider,” he said as he poured the carbonated drink into Loki’s glass and then his own.

“I think you are starting to over estimate the goodwill I can muster for you.”

“All I ask is a heads up if it could kill or seriously damage me.”

“What do I get for continuing to look out for your well being?” Loki asked, pointedly taking a sip from his own glass.

“I almost hesitate to ask, but what do you want?”

“An answer to a question. One that has no bearing on the safety of either your precious team mates or that silly organization of yours.”

“Shoot.”

“The disembodied voice in your tower, is it living?”

“No,” Tony answered through the beginning of a chuckle that followed a few seconds of surprised silence. “JARVIS is advanced artificial intelligence. I programmed him. Just A Really Very Intelligent System.” Loki’s expression had soured and Tony realized he probably shouldn’t have laughed.

“That is a terrible acronym. Were you sober when you thought of it?”

“Is the cider safe?” Tony asked instead of answering Loki’s question, that was really far less a question, and more just taking a shot.

“Your drink is safe.” As Loki stared unwaveringly at him, Tony wondered if he reallyshouldn’t have laughed about the JARVIS question.

“Is this the way you were already dressed?” Loki finally asked after a good amount of discerning staring, gesturing to the hero’s finely tailored (now rumpled) suit.

Tony frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“This is what I was wearing when I was taken, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Ah,” Loki acknowledged and returned to his meal, seemingly satisfied with the unenlightening answer.

For the first time since regaining consciousness, the man took stock of what Loki was wearing. He’d really only ever seen the other in one of two things, depending on the occasion. Tony had grown most used to seeing the green and black Asgardian battle armor, but he’d also seen Loki in the suit and scarf combo the villain seemed to be so fond of. Upon further thought, it made sense that these were not the only two outfits he owned. His current clothes could be called formal, but most likely not Earth wear. It had what the billionaire had come to associate with Asgard’s clothing, namely leathers, patterns created only the outfit in its entirety instead of by any of the individual pieces, layers (a strange, although fashionable, collection of them), and slits, holes, and loops through which what was beneath the top layer peeked or laced through. He doubted anyone would make tea in something like that.

“I’m going to take a not so wild guess and say that’s not what you were wearing.”

“Apparently formal wear is mandatory,” Loki said nonchalantly.

Tony nodded awkwardly at the information. “What were you in before?”

“That isn’t relevant.” He had been in his pajamas, but that was not Tony’s business.

Tony wondered whether he’d been wearing something embarrassing or if Loki was just being stereotypically prickly. He supposed a man was allowed to be a little prickly at the thought of being dressed up by a kidnapper. “Well hey, you don’t want to get caught without your nose powdered, whatever the occasion. Maybe they were being considerate,” he kidded to avoid the creepiness of the idea.

“Oh, absolutely. The thought of it just warms the heart.”

“You know, just because we can’t get the door open courtesy of whatever voodoo weirdness is going on with it, doesn’t mean we have to be defenseless,” Tony said after a lingering silence that had been imposed by Loki’s icy glare.

“What are you proposing we do?”

“We could set a trap.”

“With what, candles and the table cloth?” It was an unfortunately apt question. Sure, Tony Stark’s life had led him to be spoiled in a variety of departments, but in that instance, he would have gone without any high tech gadgets or specialty tools without complaint. He would have settled for a wood saw and a bag of rubber bands. Hell, he would have hollered for joy if supplied with a strong ball of twine.

“Depending on how sturdy the chandelier is—”

“None of your silly, mortal inventions would do any good, especially separated from your gratuitous resources.”

“I’m really not in the mood to go toe to toe on the whole science versus magic thing, been there, done that. If you have some supernatural solution, I’ll keep my grumblings to myself, so by all means, go for it,” Tony said, gesturing to the door.

“If some instantaneous solution were available to me, I would not be loitering here with you, Stark,” Loki spoke calmly but with no hint of give or friendliness.

“Then how ‘bout you ease up a little. I’m sure we can get through this with a thin veneer of convenient civility. Dinner date courtesy says that when I piss you off, you’re supposed to tacitly threaten not to put out, not get all snippy.”

“Put out?” Loki asked with a sneer.

“I can’t tell if you don’t know what that means or if you’re just offended.”

“I am assuming you are being base and untoward.”

“That’s usually a fair assumption. You’re easier to tease when you’re not trying to kill me.”

　

“Count yourself lucky that your presence serves me. You find yourself far more clever than you truly are. ”

Tony shrugged. “It’s worked alright for me so far, sweetheart.” He knew he should probably let up, but Tony Stark can only be cooped up in one place for so long and continue to maintain appropriate behavior.

“I am mystified as to how you’ve lured so many to your bed.”

“Really? I feel like you just haven’t spent nearly enough time admiring me, then. It’s probably because you usually see me in the armor. The armor does it for a lot of people, but since tech isn’t really your thing, I can understand how you haven’t been fully endeared to me yet. Now would be the time to bask in my glory.”

“On second thought, I’m not mystified at all. Pretty, preening idiots tend to do well in that realm since they’ve nothing better to dedicate their time to. You’ve at least found a hobby, I suppose. How‘s being my punching bag treating you? With all your money, one would think you‘d find something less painful to occupy yourself with.”

“Loki, you think I’m pretty?” Tony placed a hand over his heart. “I’m touched. ‘Though I would prefer handsome, maybe dashing.”

Loki let out a quick, breathy noise of mild amusement. “You’ll have to fight Fandral for the title.”

“I don’t think I’d have trouble taking on Peter Pan.”

Loki actually laughed outright at that. “You might succeed just by calling him that. Quite the inflated undeserved ego, that one.”

“I doubt he’d get the reference. I didn’t think you’d get the reference, and you’ve spent much more time here than he has. Aside from the violent crimes against humanity and the whole trying to conquer us thing, you’ve adapted much better than any of them seem to be able to.”

“Not “aside from” that. You’re quite mistaken. Violence and war is a specialty of your species.”

“Then why not help me take a shot at building that trap?”

Loki held out his arms as if to signal that the room was at Tony’s disposal, though the motion held a definite air of challenge. “Do as you will, Stark. I won’t stand in your way.”

“Alrighty then,” Tony stood and stretched, then began moving everything off the table top.

“This is quite flimsy,” Loki pointed out. “It will do you no good.”

“No,” Tony admitted, “but the table cloth might.”

Loki just sat back and watched as his human co-captive dissembled the dinner setting, placed it all aside on the floor, and pulled off the cream and silver table cloth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Thoughts/comments are always appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which ice cream is _actually_ eaten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait. A combination of life getting very busy and my body not handling the ensuing stress well at all and deciding to be mean to me is the main reason. Still, sorry about the wait.

It was the lamest defense system that Tony Stark had ever created in his life. But it was the best that could’ve been possibly done with the tools at his disposal. He gave it a cool name anyway, although the inventor obviously kept that little detail to himself. 

Loki had been of limited help. The first twenty minutes passed with Tony dragging things about and Loki criticizing whenever there was an opportunity to be characteristically catty.

“You’re a terrible cheer leader,” Tony had commented as he pushed the couch in from the other room. It had an old and classic look to it. The frame was metal and quite heavy. 

“Heavy lifting isn’t really my specialty,” Tony had said when it had come time to get the thing to rest vertically on its side, “this would move much faster if you’d lend a hand.” Tony had no interest in getting flattened by an antique couch.

“Heavy lifting is supposed to be my specialty? Have we been acquainted?”

“You once threw Cap’s motorcycle at me.”

Loki had had smiled smugly at that. Tony then made a point of complaining to himself sarcastically as he worked, until finally Loki had given him the needed assistance, if only to make the man stop talking. Loki was far more used to being on the other end of that. It was surprising how easily one who would not be swayed by reason could be won by persistence, and Loki had made good use of it since the first day he’d discovered it in convincing his maid to let him keep the elf shot he’d stolen away from a visiting dignitary’s guard when he was but a child. 

The final result was odd looking, to say the least. It involved the precarious arrangement of a hanging upholstered chair, the table cloth turned rope, a now vertical couch, and the chandelier.

Tony took in a long breath, hands on his hips.

“In light of the situation, I’m proud of it.”

“It is certainly an interesting contraption, although I’m not sure it should inspire pride,” Loki said, having sat back down at the table minutes earlier.

“Wrong. You’re supposed to praise me.”

“Well, I can say that it’s creative with all honesty.”

“No,” Tony shook his head, “you can do better than that.”

“What do you want, a title? Fine, Anthony the ingenuitous, you shall hereby be known,” Loki said with false pomp, voice managing to simultaneously ooze indifference.

“I like that. I might start making people call me that— put it on business cards.”

“Your vainglory is astounding. Now, sit down, and cease your little celebration; it’s wearing on my nerves.”

Tony did sit, but the thick aura of smugness did not dissipate. Loki kicked the cooler out from under the now bare table and leaned down to pull it open. 

“Dessert now, huh?” Tony asked as Loki fished out one of the sundaes.

“Yes. You seem awfully surprised by my eating,” Loki commented as he sized up the dessert, twirling his spoon around the whipped topping.

“I suppose I wasn’t expecting the voracious appetite. It makes sense though. Your metabolism is probably much faster than a human’s. How often do you need to eat? Like, need, not just when you actually do. How long could you go without food?”

“I don’t think I feel like passing the time entertaining you by sating your curiosities.”

Tony settled his own sundae on the table, because, well, why not? “How do you feel like passing the time?”

“I am going to eat this dessert.”

“Eating in silence in a locked empty room sounds awfully boring.”

Letting out an exaggerated sigh of irritation, Loki stabbed his spoon to stick up out of the strawberry mound of ice cream. “So you wish us to make idle conversation instead?”

“It’s better than tense silence.” Tony shrugged. 

“And out of all the matters we could discuss, you’ve chosen my metabolism?”

“I’m naturally curious.”

“Don’t you Midgardians have a platitude about curiosity?”

“We do, but curiosities done me more good than harm so far, and platitudes are boring (pretty much by definition, by the way).”

“And I suppose you cannot survive anything that bores you?”

“Hey, look at that,” Tony pointed out with an air of victory, “you’ve got questions for me too. I know, why don’t we play a game?”

“A game?” Loki asked, staring down into his ice cream in between scoops.

“Yah. Two truths and a lie. Very simple, just what it sounds like. You give three facts. Two are true, one is not. The other person can request an explanation of one of them, then they have to guess which is the lie. If the guess is correct, the guesser gets to ask the other a question, to which an honest answer must be given. If the guess is wrong, the guesser has to answer a question. It‘s your type of game.”

Loki looked skeptical. “Are these the only rules?”

“No questions to gain an advantage after we’re out of here. Answers gotta’ be honest. That’s it.”

“And why would either of us abide by these rules? How could they possibly be enforced?” 

“If we don’t follow the rules, the game is boring, and playing beats just waiting for the door to open.”

“And you really expect me to play along?” Loki’s expression was vague and expectant (and more than a little insulting.)

“I do,” Tony replied with a pleased smirk, leaning back confidently as he fiddled with his sundae spoon, whipping the topping into the ice cream.

“Very well,” answered Loki, as if accepting a challenge, the air of it somewhat dampened by the maraschino cherry he was holding. “Who starts?” 

“I will, since you’ve never played. Alright…” Tony paused, clearly in thought, brow furrowed. His eyes brightened with his idea. “Okay, I’ve got them. I’ve broken over half the bones in my body. My middle name is Edwin. I couldn’t whistle until I was fifteen.”

“The second is the lie,” Loki said almost immediately, and took a haughty mouthful of his dessert. 

“You don’t want me to expand on any of them?”

“No. The lie was obvious.”

“Alright then,” Tony relented, “you’re right, that was the lie. What’s your question?”

“Does that Captain of yours unending earnestness ever bother you?”

“Sometimes,” the billionaire admitted. Steve may have been his best friend, but that didn’t mean he didn’t grate on his nerves at times. “your turn.”

“I can raise the dead. I didn’t start speaking until far later than most babes. I have been to all of the nine realms at least once.” He said it all evenly and naturally, smiling abstractly all the while.

“Tell me about raising the dead.”

“Very well,” Loki said, crossing his hands on the table. “It is a tiring spell, but not an overly complicated one. It entails not so much a resurrection, as a revival, and is not meant to be permanent. It is dangerous, for most spell casters.”

Tony chewed his cheek pensively. He hated magic, and had never really understood how it worked, but that sounded true enough. Then again, it was Loki. Everything he said _sounded_ true.

“So, Stark, is that one of my truths or my lie?”

“That’s true.”

“Then what is my lie?”

“The second one. I don’t buy it taking you longer to talk than most children,” Tony decided. “Am I right?”

Loki smiled wide. “No.”

Tony frowned, surprised. “Really?”

“Indeed. It was said that I didn’t speak until I could do so eloquently— that I was saving up my words.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Loki gave a smooth shrug. “I didn’t say that was the case.”

“So…What was the lie?”

“I’ve only been to seven out of the nine realms.”

“Huh,” Tony frowned. “Which ones?”

Loki shook his head triumphantly. “You lost. You don’t get to ask questions. I do.”

“Fine. Shoot.”

“You no longer consume alcohol. Why? What did you do that made you want to regain your faculties?” The question wasn’t asked with an overtly malicious tone, but neither was it kind.

“You don’t pull any punches, huh? That question sounds like ammunition for later to me. That’s against the rules,” Tony pointed out with a point of his long spoon.

“Would giving you my word do me no good?”

“Absolutely none.”

Loki let out a long breath, clicking his tongue in thought. “What about the first half of the question? A simple why.”

“It was getting in the way of more important things,” Tony said, figuring if it came up later, so be it. Not answering would be more ammunition than anything, and he could just remind himself of Loki eating an ice cream sundae and immediately cease to take him seriously. 

Loki nodded his acknowledgement. “Your turn.”

“I’m a little bit afraid of hyenas. I’ve been technically dead. I’ve never been with anyone half my age or less.”

“The last is your lie.”

“Ha,” Tony exclaimed in a show of poor gamesmanship, “that’s true.”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “I’ve misjudged.”

“You have. I get to ask you a question now.”

“You do.”

“Ever conceived by horse or eating your girlfriend’s heart?”

“You get one question, not two.”

“Okay, fine. Have you ever conceived?”

“No,” Loki answered, face slightly pinched as if to say: really? “I’ve no fondness for children. Dirty creatures. Loud. Usually stupid. I did eat a heart once, but I wasn’t close to its owner, and there were not such scandalous results.”

“You just shared that last part to freak me out.”

“Yes. But it is a good story.”

“I’ll buy that,” Tony admitted. “Your turn.”

“I lived with the Alfar for a summer as a child. The raven is my favorite bird. One of the most serious injuries I received before adulthood was in an incident with a loom.”

“Okay, that last one is too funny to not be true. The raven thing is the lie.” He didn’t bother to mention that Thor had once told him about the summer when Loki had gone away.

Loki’s expression was odd at that, pale face smooth and devoid of expression. “Well, ask your question.”

“Sex magic,” Tony said with a smirk, “that a real thing?”

Leveling a disbelieving, judgmental stare at Tony, Loki let the silence linger before answering. “Out of everything you could have asked me, about history, about the universe, that is your question?”

“Uh, yah. I asked Strange, but I think I just pissed him off.”

To Tony’s surprise, Loki’s face morphed into an amused smile. “I think there may be something quite amiss with you, Stark.”

“I know, but you still have to answer.”

“I know. There are such practices. Probably nothing like what that mind of yours is conjuring up.”

“What purpose would something like that even serve?” He was pushing his luck, and had not been expecting an answer, but he got one.

“There’s power in it, in the energy that is spent, the energy that is created. There are certain spells that require such energy.”

“Oh. Well, that certainly sounds more fun than raising the dead.”

“It is. The dead are very petty creatures.” Loki punctuated the statement with an unnerving grin, which Tony had no trouble meeting and replicating.

***  
As the evening grew later, Thor began to worry that the magic would not work as planned. He had never put much stake in spells. It was not of him, was not something he could do or control, nor was it something he fully understood. He dearly hoped that their dinner was serving its purpose.   
They had both looked their best for the occasion. Loki had been dressed quite casually when Thor had found him, so he’d had to use his own discretion to make him presentable. He felt that he’d chosen well, although dressing his unconscious brother had not been a simple task.

***

“Wrong,” Loki was saying, “I never visited any of the Scandinavian shrines or temples back then, so I couldn’t have made that mess. We were supposed to allow humanity as much independence as possible, despite your obvious incompetence.”

“Wait,” Tony said, curious, “I thought they didn’t have temples.

“That is a modern misconception. You mortals seem to take no obvious evidence that you comprehend to mean that something must never have been,” Loki explained with tempered disapproval.

“The absence of evidenced is not the evidence of absence, and all that” Tony commented, twirling his spoon in the last puddle of his ice cream. Loki’s was already gone.

“Yes.”

The following moment of quiet was dramatically interrupted by the loud crash of suspended chair swinging down and crashing to the floor. Loki jumped, nearly swallowing his spoon, and Tony stood at the noise, both staring at the door, now open a crack. Loki, face fierce, placed his hands flat on the table and mindfully stood. 

“Get down, Stark,” Loki ordered without tearing his eyes from the door. Tony obediently crouched down after a millisecond of wanting to ask why, before thinking better of it. The unvoiced question was answered when Loki lifted his hand, and with a pronounced flick of his wrist, the standing couch flew forward, splintering the door and slamming violently into the frame. Loki took a few steps forward and Tony stood, then followed. Beyond that damnable door was…nothing, really. There was a small well lit hall beyond the thresh-hold. 

“What if there’d been someone there who we didn’t want to end by flying couch?”

Loki just narrowed his eyes with a roll and shook his head.

“So, it’s safe to say that the spell is over?”

“Obviously.”

They both just stood there, staring at the door, until finally, Tony climbed over the couch, into the hall way.

“We’re either about to be home free or royally screwed,” He said, rubbing his still sore neck.

“Isn’t the latter favorable to you, Stark?” Loki asked as he left the room behind, face a knowingly farcical imitation of innocence. 

“There’s some of that supposed cleverness. You’re actually funny when you’re not intent on murdering me.”

“I’m funny then too, you just aren’t in on the joke,” Loki replied with a sly smile.

They continued to advance down the empty hall. The walls were clean and pale, the floor carpeted in hotel red. They paused at the lustrous metallic doors of an elevator. Tony looked over at Loki briefly before pressing the small yellow Down Arrow. There was the sound of the rising box, a bing, and then the doors slid open.

Loki went in first, obviously determined to locate their captor. Stepping inside the cool box, Tony held his finger against the Open Door Button.

“Now would be the time to formulate some sort of plan if we want to have one.”

“If there’s anyone down there, when the doors open, stay in the elevator. I don’t plan on going out of my way to avoid damaging your delicate, mortal body.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tony said as he pressed the button to bring them to the ground floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Thoughts/Comments are always appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This mortal writer has been encouraged by the fandom gods to get this chapter up. So here it is. My sincerest of apologies for the wait.

Tony tensed when the elevator finally came to a stop. The box made a small pleasant tone as the doors parted. At first look, there was nothing much to see. The ground floor seemed to be a large, empty reception area. That did not change at second look, nor at third. When the billionaire followed the god into the open, something odd happened: absolutely nothing.

“We seem to have the building to ourselves,” Loki spoke up after closing his eyes, doing what Tony assumed was a little bit of magic.

“Looks like it,” he agreed and advanced carefully towards the front doors.

Tony was the one to press his hands to the handle and push. He nearly fell through the doors when they easily parted. It was but a few seconds until Loki was right behind him. They faced the city’s sparkling lights, bright against what they now knew to be a completely darkened sky.

“Well, Stark, what are you waiting for?” Loki asked, interrupting Tony’s puzzled contemplation. Tony turned his head to look at the villain behind him. Loki’s hands hung at his sides, but his stance was not relaxed, throat taut and jaw tight. Tony didn’t answer the question, instead stepping out into the open. His sigh of relief caught on the question of whether their temporary truce ended at the side walk. Loki’s thoughts were apparently much the same as he left their temporary prison behind to join him on the pavement. “So, shall you try to apprehend me now?” Loki ceased his examination of their surroundings to meet the other man’s eye. They were mostly isolated. There were no people walking along the long block that were close enough to make out a face, but they could hear the usual human sounds of the city near by.

Tony laughed at Loki’s question. It just seemed so ludicrous. He was defenseless and still had no way to call for back up. “I’m not exactly equipped,” Tony said, gesturing to his unarmored body. “Are you going to kill me?”

“No use in doing that before this ridiculous incident has been explained in full.”

“Alright,” Tony let himself breath a little easier, although he knew he wasn’t in the clear yet. “You don’t try to do anything directly or indirectly to me before I can get back to home base, and I don’t try to sick SHIELD on you.”

“Fine,” Loki agreed cooly.

“If I agree to tell you if I find anything out about this, would you do the same for me?” Tony could hardly believe he was asking, and was really not sure as to what answer he was expecting- maybe a glare and Loki disappearing in a poof of green smoke, maybe a cutting refusal…maybe prolonging this interaction was going to get him literally killed.

“I suppose I can do you that courtesy.” It was not the one he got. Tony’s eyebrows shot up, surprised despite the intrinsic strangeness of the entire situation.

“So…” he began when Loki said nothing more, “super villains probably aren’t doing the whole cell phone thing these days…” The question of how do I reach you? hung unspoken in the air.

When Loki reached for him, he flinched. The god was clearly amused by it as he took Tony’s hand. The contact was shocking and Tony didn’t know what to do with his body, so he just stood there (more stiffly than he was proud of) as Loki held Tony’s hand in one of his own and brought one of his long pale fingers down to trace on Tony’s palm. Loki’s skin was cool and mostly soft. There was a little roughness on the pad of his palm and thumb. Tony thought it was probably where he gripped his staff.

Loki maintained amused and unnerving eye contact as he looped a short path over Tony’s skin. When Loki let go, Tony brought up his hand to stare at it. It burned. On his now pained palm were seven numbers magically imprinted (scorched?) in green. When he realized his mouth was hanging agape, he snapped it shut, composing himself, and looked up to make some witty retort (that was, if he was being at all honest with himself, an attempt at recovering some of the dignity he’d lost gaping like a fish), only to find himself alone.

***

Stark made sure he would remember how to return to the building. Patrons gaped at him as he pulled open the door to a small coffee house (with all fake wooden table tops and bad, local art on the walls) and approached the counter.

“Can I use your phone?” he asked the clearly curious young, pony tailed barista. She nodded and led him behind the smooth, brown counter, dedicating an awkward moment to moving it out of the way of her work station. He dialed the tower and hoped someone was home. He decided that he needed to rig it so JARVIS could take calls. He put it on his mental to-do list, right behind solving his own kidnapping.

“Hello?” The voice managed politeness, but knowing its owner so well, Tony could tell that it was tight with worry.

“Hey, Steve. It’s me.” The barista pretended not to perk up her ears at the name.

“Tony,” Steve said in a whoosh of relieved breath. “Where have you been? Pepper called when you didn’t show for the charity dinner, but all your cars are still here- the armor too.” The addition of you worried me sick, you jackass was left to be interpreted.

“I’ve been kidnapped, no big deal. But, could you come get me?”

“Kidnapped?! Tony, are you safe? Where are you?”

“I’m safe. I’m fine. I’m in the Coffee Bean. I just don’t want to walk home.”

“Okay. Give me the address and I’ll be right there.”

***

Steve left in a hurry, explaining that he had to get Tony as he threw on his jacket and left. Thor felt he acted sufficiently shocked as the mention of kidnapping and offered to go with him. Steve thanked him but said it wasn’t necessary. Thor was relieved that the magic had released Anthony and his brother. It felt as if he was practically boiling over with suspense at how it had all gone.

***

Loki returned home without delay or dalliance. He paused in each subsequent doorway to attempt to feel whatever magical presence had been there and to redouble his defenses. He thought he would probably need to move.

His book and blanket were exactly where he’d left them on his table and chair, respectively. His mug lay in jagged pieces on the kitchen floor. He left them as they lay and went to investigate his bedroom. His large closet had been left ajar, clothes clearly having been rifled through. The clothes he’d been lounging in before were discarded in a rumpled heap on the floor. Loki found himself simply frowning at them. It wasn’t as if just the idea of being seen undressed irked him all that much, after all, he’d had an official dresser until he left childhood. But it was a serious over stepping by…someone.

He stripped down, tossing his clothes onto the floor along with the clothes from the bed. He retrieved everything that had been involved in his capture (for it could have been magically affected) and added it to the small pyre. With a wave of his hand it began to burn. Loki dressed anew once it was all a pile of ash on the floor. He whipped it away to far off winds, and then returned to the kitchen to finally make his tea. It was a matter of principle.

***

Thor greeted Tony by throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“How are you feeling, my friend?”

“Fine, Thor, don’t worry,” Tony said.

“Tell us of what befell you.”

“Give him a little room to breath,” Steve intercepted, attempting to guide Tony towards a chair.

“Steve,” Tony put in, looking amused, “take your own advice.”

“Sorry.” Steve scratched at the back of his neck, deciding what to do with himself.

“I really am fine. All I need is to go check the security footage, and get a few hours sleep.”

***

Tony’s investigative efforts yielded few results. The security footage of when he was taken was nothing but snow. There was nothing actually faulty or physically tampered with in the system, so it must have been magic. Magic had the irritating habit of being both powerful and totally nonsensical, and Tony never knew quite how to deal with it. He usually settled on resentment and whining.

The building he and Loki had been held in turned our to be an old hotel in between having gone out of use and being renovated.

He filled the team in on what had happened, leaving out the last little detail about promising to contact Loki under temporary truce. He informed SHIELD of absolutely none of it. They were nosy enough already.

Tony programmed the number Loki had given him into his cell (which had been laying on his bedroom floor where it had apparently been left by his captor) under the contact name “L.O.” The green numbers on his palm faded slowly over the first twenty four hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/thoughts are always appreciated.


End file.
